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        <title>Christian Droulers :: The story of an unsung hero</title>
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            <h1>Christian Droulers</h1>
            <h2>Agile and flexible programmer</h2>
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            <h2>The story of an unsung hero</h2>

<p>There I was again, making the newspaper’s headline. “Mysterious man saves 27
lives in disastrous fire”. It didn’t affect me anymore. I had read so many
testimonies from people I had “saved”, people I didn’t even care about. I did
not really want to help them. I never intended to become so popular... nobody
really knows me actually. Wait, no. Everybody knows me. I am the hero, I am the
man that appears at every disaster at the last second and saves the day. I never
go there on purpose, every single time, accidents have happened while I was
already there. What is it that pushes me to save them? I never knew. I probably
never will. I guess it is human nature to help your peers; I hate it. I have
powers, great power. But I am still not sure if it is a good power or a bad one.
Once in a while, I will just be out somewhere and shit happens. Bridges
collapse, fires break out, gas tanks blow up. Every time, time slows down to a
stop. Everything, everyone around me is stuck. Every single time I see their
faces. Every single time I hear their screams. Every single time I feel their
pain. Every single time, I save them and fly away.</p>

<p>Am I bad luck? Am I the one that really creates these accidents? I have been
living for what I have come to call a curse for twelve years now. I am having a
really hard time keeping on. Every day, I am afraid to get up. I am afraid that
this day will be another day of pain and horror. I am afraid I will have to be a
hero again.</p>

<p>“Hey nice sir, how are you doing on this beautiful morning?”</p>

<p>I snapped out of my train of thought. As usual, she was the first one to talk
to me at work. She was the only one really. After years of an unknown hero, I
slowly became anti‒social, introverted and lost family and friends. No one ever
wanted to talk to me but her. Every morning, she would pop her head in my
cubicle and say hello. Each time she made me smile. I had never seen this woman
in any other mood than “incredibly fine”. She always smiled, her eyes were
always bright and her hair radiant. She sat on my desk.</p>

<p>“I’m fine, how are <em>you</em> feeling today miss?” I answered.</p>

<p>“Every day just seems like the best day ever to me! You know that.”</p>

<p>I smiled. She looked straight into my eyes.</p>

<p>“What’s wrong?” she asked.</p>

<p>“What?”</p>

<p>“What’s going on with you? Your look is different from yesterday.”</p>

<p>“And you can tell this how?”</p>

<p>“I know you like the back of my hand.”</p>

<p>If only she did. If only she knew who I was.</p>

<p>“You look... tired.” she continued.</p>

<p>“I did not sleep much last night. It happens.”</p>

<p>“It’s not physical fatigue.”</p>

<p>And then, she just stared at me. I was used to it. She would do it once in a
while, scrutinising my very soul it seemed. She looked straight into my eyes for
minutes, never moving. At first, it made me very uncomfortable and I would try
to look away. But as she kept on doing it, I began to appreciate it. When she
did it, I felt relieved. I do not know how or why, but it felt like she knew. It
felt like she understood. For this short moment, I felt free. I felt like I was
one with her. She stopped suddenly and got up.</p>

<p>“All right then, have a very nice day now!” she said joyously.</p>

<p>“You too.” I baffled, dumbstruck.</p>

<p>She would never know this, but she was the one that made it all a little
easier.</p>

<p>There they come. I didn’t want anything to happen. Not today. The screams
were coming. The pain was settling in my body. The faces were appearing. Again,
I would have to save them. It scared me even after twelve years of seeing them
regularly, it scared the shit out of me every single time. What was the problem
this time? I looked around in this frozen time and space. I never knew what to
do. It was a mystery again. I walked out of the commuter buss and walked in the
middle of the intersection. A scream came to me, louder and sharper than the
others. I looked to my left, where a huge semi‒truck of gasoline was there. Its
driver was pulling the horn string over him, fear visible in his every feature.
I stepped towards him, thinking about how I could stop such a huge threat.
Suddenly, they came again, the screams. I had to do something before it was too
late. The screams vanished. The only thing I heard now was the truck’s horn and
bus’ tires screeching on the hot asphalt. I hoped for the driver’s life and put
both my arms in front of me. I closed my eyes and I felt a sting, shortly. There
was not much I could feel as I stopped an 18‒wheeler with only my hands. As it
left the ground when its momentum transferred vertically, I jumped to the
cabin’s door, ripped it off, grabbed the driver and got away. As I landed, the
truck’s gasoline tank finally crumpled on and over itself, creating sparks that
ignited the fluid. For the short moment it lasted, it was one of the most
beautiful things I had seen in my life. I had to leave now. I simply flew away.</p>

<p>I knew not to turn the television on when I sat on my couch unless I wanted
to hear all the details of the hero that saved so many lives again. I was
completely sick of it. I did not want to be like this anymore. Those people did
not matter to me! They could die for all I cared. I just wish I could be more
than this. I needed to vent after this before I became seriously upset. I turned
on my video game console, thinking a little mindless killing would help escape
reality.</p>

<p>Just like every other day before today, I sat in my office chair, ready for a
day of work. I got to it: put my fingers on the keyboard and coded away. Nine
o’clock came around, making me eagerly wait for her smile. Ten o’clock, yet she
had not shown up. I started to worry. Maybe she was sick? Probably not, she
never missed work nor came in late. She was too happy to be sick. I waited for
lunch time and went to see her boss. No luck there. She had not called. I asked
around. Some of my female colleagues made witty remarks and giggled like it was
high school all over again. I did not care. No one knew anything at all, they
were all useless. I ran to the roof and flew back home. I grabbed the phone and
called her home. Each ring made my heart beat a little faster. I had a bad
feeling and nothing good ever came out of my feelings. Her answering machine
turned on. I hung up and dialled her cellphone. It was apparently off as a
gentle male voice told me so. I paced in my kitchen, wondering what to do, who
to call, where she could be. After moments of walking back and forth and
imagining the worst, I took out the phone book and dialled hospital numbers.
There weren’t that many in the city. At the fourth call, I was shocked. She had
been admitted the day before, right around the time I stopped that truck.</p>

<p>I was there ten minutes later, landed subtly in an alley and ran the rest. I
asked to see her and the nurse led me into her room.</p>

<p>“She isn’t conscious”, the nurse said, “and her state is degrading as time
goes by.”</p>

<p>“What’s wrong?” I asked, shaken.</p>

<p>“She was hit by a taxi at the end of yesterday. Her left lung has been
punctured by a broken rib and her heart has been crushed enough to require a
replacement.”</p>

<p>I was not shocked anymore. It was fear.</p>

<p>“She needs a donor in the next three days. I’ll leave you alone with her now.”</p>

<p>I sat by her side and held her hands. She had her eyes closed and a smile her
lips, as always. She seemed at peace. My lips formed a smile shortly before it
collapsed.</p>

<p>“I am sorry,” I said, “I am sorry I let that happen to you. I know it is not
my fault. I just know that I could have done something. Anything. I was busy
taking care of people I have no care for while my only friend needed me. I am so
sorry.”</p>

<p>Emotions were flowing through my brain. I could not even count them: sadness,
hate, empathy, sympathy, anger, lust, pleasure... nothing made sense.</p>

<p>I woke up late into the night, sprawled on a waiting room’s couch. I got up
and walked into her room. I stood at the end of the bed and looked at her. She
was beautiful.</p>

<p>“You came...”</p>

<p>Her eyes were fluttering, she was conscious! I went so sit closer and took
her hand.</p>

<p>“Yes, I did.”</p>

<p>“I’m glad you’re here.”</p>

<p>I did not answer. I wished we were elsewhere. Somewhere where I was hurt and
she was not.</p>

<p>“How am I?”</p>

<p>I looked in her eyes. No need for an answer. She read my thoughts as she
always did. She remained silent for a moment. I could only hold her hand and my
tears.</p>

<p>“Chris?”</p>

<p>“Yes?” I answered in a breath.</p>

<p>“I’m really happy you are here. I would have not wanted anyone else by my
side at a moment like this.”</p>

<p>I once again held my words. Happy was not now.</p>

<p>“Chris... I love you. Thank you for everything.”</p>

<p>“Steph!”</p>

<p>But she had already fallen unconscious. Steph. Why those words? I tried
finding the emotion I wanted to give her back. I wanted to understand what she
meant. But desire didn’t come. It wasn’t lust either. Passion was still not the
one I was looking for. It was way past friendship. It was love. Love in its
purest form. I loved her more than I could have ever loved anyone. I would give
anything and everything to save her, to be one with her. My love for her was
stronger than the love that is usually had for a lover. My life was entirely
hers. I had to do something. Only one thing came to mind over and over again :
“to be one with her”.</p>

<p>I bent down over her and hugged her body. I closed my eyes and let tears pour
down my cheeks. “To be one with her”. I would be. I would not be capable of
going on with my life without her smile, without her cheerful personality every
day. I could not go on if a person as wonderful as her could not. Suddenly, I
felt pain all over my body. Excruciating pain, pain I had not really felt in
twelve full years. It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest.</p>

<p>I woke up again on the same couch later in the day. I instinctively reached
for my chest where everything felt fine. I ran to her room, worried I had once
again done something bad. A nurse was there, holding her hand while taking her
pulse. She shuffled around and looked at monitors.</p>

<p>“What is wrong?” I asked, nervous.</p>

<p>“Wrong? There’s nothing wrong at all! Her heart has a normal rhythm and she’s
breathing normally. You could almost think she healed overnight.”</p>

<p>She walked out. I approached her and put my hand on hers. But I did not feel
her usual aura. The feeling she used to give me every morning by smiling. What I
felt was... different. Familiar in a weird way. I felt like I was close to my
own self.</p>

<p>“<em>To be one with her.</em>”</p>

<p>I understood then. I kissed her cheek and made for the door.</p>

<p>“Thank you Stephanie, thank you so much. I love you more than all.”</p>

<p>The air was rushing along my skin as I flew up. The air slowly grew colder,
the pressure slowly decreasing. The blue of the sky getting closer. The clouds
were magnificent at this height. But I was not stopping to look. I had somewhere
else to go: up. As I left the atmosphere, air left my lungs and blackness
settled in. I felt free. Free at last.</p>

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